


Bloom

by reedyas



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Animal Instincts, Eventual Smut, F/M, Mating, No Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Season 2 AU, Shapeshifting, Telepathy, Were-Creatures, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-09
Updated: 2015-06-02
Packaged: 2018-03-29 16:44:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3903505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reedyas/pseuds/reedyas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Beth loves to run through the forest and howl at the moon. That hardly changes when a strange group with an unfamiliar wolfman arrive at her daddy's farm after a deadly virus breaks out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. won't stop running till we reach the sun

**Author's Note:**

> Woohoo! A werecreature/shapeshifter fic! Huzzah! I've had this plot bunny running around my head for a long time and never thought I'd actually write it - but here we are!
> 
> This isn't a "typical" werewolf fic, I've kind of made these wolves/wolfpeople/shapeshifters my own :) Let me know if anything is confusing!
> 
>  
> 
> [I made a playlist with songs that inspired this fic.](http://8tracks.com/wordsbirds/wolfgirl)
> 
>  
> 
> Oh, and in this fic, despite it being at the farm, Beth is 17-going on-18 rather than 16-going on 17. It doesn't matter much plot wise, but it's more for my personal comfort level.
> 
> Enjoy! Please don't forget to leave kudos and/or a comment!

Ever since her first Change, Beth has loved to run. Both parts of her soul – the woman and the wolf – live to glide across the forest floor, absorbing the intoxicating scents of nature around her. She loves it when her senses are heightened and her legs are filled with boundless energy. Sometimes she’s running so fast, she feels as if her paws don’t even touch the ground.

The sun is just barely peeking over the horizon when she reaches the cliff at the edge of her daddy’s property, Maggie not far behind her. Her sister trots up next to her, a pink tongue lolling out the side of her mouth. Even in her wolf form, Maggie is as beautiful as ever. Her fur is a rich, woodsy brown color, and her eyes a startling green. She yawns and stretches, shaking out her damp coat. 

Beth sits back on her hind legs and huffs out a steam of breath. All she wants to do is enjoy the sunrise, but Maggie cocks her head towards the farm, signaling that it’s time to start the jog back home and work on their morning chores. _Let’s head back. It’s getting late,_ Maggie’s voice says in her head.

Once they’re on the edge of the form, the sisters grit their teeth and let their bodies transform from wolves into young women. The pain hasn’t changed since Beth’s first transformation at 12, but has only gotten more bearable. She quickly pulls on her clothes and cowboy boots and races to catch up with Maggie.

When a highly contagious virus hit a month earlier, Beth has noticed that the air has gotten much quieter. Before, she could hear the constant hum of the highway and her neighbor’s laughter from miles away. She could smell other wolves and humans with ease. Now, the air is quiet and smells of mud with a hint of rotting meat. This isolation heightens the vulnerability in being a wolf. Her kind was only about fifteen percent of the entire population before the virus, now it seems as if there’s next to none left. 

“Bethy? You in there?” Maggie asks teasingly as they climb the stairs up to the front door.

She nods and flashes a small smile. “Just kind of in my head this morning.”

Maggie nods understandingly. Beth shakes herself out of her reverie and goes about her daily activities.

…

It’s about three o’clock when the Greene farm’s becomes not as isolated anymore.

There’s a man in a sheriff’s uniform, running and struggling to hold a young boy with a bleeding hole in his chest. Another stranger and Otis follow behind, weapons in hand.

Beth’s heart drops to her stomach when Daddy asks the question – is he bit?

Thankfully, he’s not. She doesn’t have time to be relieved before she’s set to work sterilizing medical equipment and taking stock of what little they have.

The men are human, but have an unfamiliar wolf’s scent about them. Beth doesn’t think about it too much, she’s too busy focusing on helping the young boy not bleed out on the white linen sheets. The afternoon passes in a daze filled with the boy's agonized screams and the men's frantic desperation. When Maggie returns from finding the boy's mother, she informs her pack that there’s one wolf in their group. 

They meet him the next day. He leads his group to the farm on a motorcycle. Beth’s heart is raw from the pain of Otis’s death. The boy – Carl – is stabilized, and it’s nice to know his death wasn’t in vain. The strangers stand around Otis’s grave marker under an oak tree. They don’t say much; their faces are etched with exhaustion and a deep sadness.

The wolf – Daryl, she later learns - stands across from her, a crossbow off his shoulder and his arms crossed over his chest. His scent is overtly masculine – like pine trees and dirt with a touch of animal blood. It reminds her of chasing rabbits in the twilight or stalking a doe in the morning light, her stride quiet on the ground and her nose on her prey’s trail.  
She glances up at his face and finds him watching her, his eyes scanning her up and down. Beth squares her shoulders and meets his deep blue eyes. They’re carefully guarded and hardened – but mostly, they’re tired. Beth wonders what this strange wolfman is – if he’s more man than wolf, or more monster than human.

…

The first time she speaks to him is the morning after a bullet grazes the side of his head. Daddy’s already changed his bandages and has ordered him to bedrest for the rest of the day. He’s asked her to keep an eye on Daryl, to make sure he’s not out of bed and/or plotting an escape. It’s not like she has anything better to do, so she agrees.

“Bethy, could you go check on Daryl? Maybe bring him some water?” Daddy asks before heading out to chat with Mr. Grimes.

She nods and brings a pitcher of water and a glass to the guest bedroom on the first floor. Beth knocks lightly on the wood paneling and opens the door, carefully holding the pitcher with one hand. “Brought you something,” she says. “Daddy’ll be in here in a little bit to check on you.”

Daryl is sitting up against the headboard with the sheets kicked to the foot of the bed. He’s wearing a somewhat clean pair of jeans and a threadbare sleeveless button up. Thumbing through an old paperback, his eyes flick up to hers. “Don’t need no checkup. I’m fine.”

Setting the pitcher down on the nightstand, she snorts. “Says the man who took an arrow to his side and a bullet to his temple. Trust me, you’re not going to want to argue with Daddy over this.”

“Hey – watch your tongue girl,” he retorts, his features bunching up into a scowl.

“You don’t get to tell me what to do, Mr. Dixon,” she replies firmly. “You’re in our territory. It’ll be much easier on everybody if you just cooperate with my dad. It’s not that hard.”  
Daryl is silent. She doesn't have to look at him to know that he's brooding. She also ultra-aware that his scent permeates the air, making it hard to focus.

“You got a pack?” she asks quietly, cracking open a window.

“Nah, just my brother.”

“He alive?”

“Dunno. Rick and everyone left him on a rooftop in Atlanta. Found his hand when we went looking for him.”

Beth turns around and looks at him in horror. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea. Why would they -?” She wonders if Rick’s group should stay on the farm much longer.

“He was probably being a dick. Merle always pissed the wrong people off.”

“Can’t you, you know, smell him?”

“I dunno. Maybe. He’s too far away.” His eyes are steadily trained on her as if he’s sizing her up. He blinks and sighs. “Fuck, girl, you think if I could find him I’d be here right now?” he drags a hand over his tired face. “Leave me alone. Your daddy said I needed rest, so get.”

“Fine,” she says, bitter at the prospect of leaving this intriguing man alone. “Holler if you need anything.” 

He grunts, and she leaves. 

…

Her hands won’t stop shaking. Images of her mama and Shawn and that little girl with the bite mark on her neck and bullet wound through her forehead won’t stop replaying over and over and over and over –

Her stomach threatens to empty itself all over the green grass beneath her boots. Nothing will ever be the same _nothing_ at all _Mama and Shawn_

She’ll never forget the vision of Daryl pointing and shooting his shotgun into her mother’s forehead. She _hates_ him. 

She also hates Shane and Rick and Andrea and Glenn and T-Dogg and she just wants to _run._

So she does.

…

Beth barely remembers kicking her boots off at the tree line before changing as quickly as she could. The wolf inside her breaks and mends her bones with ease. Her muscles tear and heal, and her ligaments the same. The pain is white hot and all-encompassing and before she knows it, she’s the wolf. 

Her heart is beating an erratic tattoo in her chest as she sprints across the forest floor. She just wants to forget. She wants to forget her naivety, her childish hope for a cure, her unquestioning faith in her father. 

She knows she doesn’t hate Rick’s group. She hates the fact that they came into their territory and disrupted her pack. She knows it’s not right to hate someone because of uncontrollable circumstances, but it still doesn’t dull the anger in her heart.

She hates this world, this decaying, disgusting world. If this world can let an innocent little girl turn into a walking corpse, who’s to say that something like that will happen to her? Or even worse?

Beth wishes that she was in her bed. Alone. Or maybe with Maggie. She would leave tonight, leave this Earth and join her family somewhere above. It would be quick, a minute of pain and then she would be gone. She would never come back, and that would be okay. Who would want to return to this hole of a world anyways?

But she’s not in her bed. She’s in the middle of the trees, miles away from home. 

This is much better than wasting away in her childhood bedroom. Deep down, she knows she doesn’t want to be remembered as the girl who was too weak to choose to survive in this new world. 

With tears in her eyes, she throws back her head and howls to the twilight sky and allows her grief to flow throughout her bones.

…

The sky is dark and the moon is high when she hears a low, feral growl from behind her. Her ears perk and tenses her muscles. When she turns, she sees two coyotes stalking her from a ways away. 

Fights like these are easy. The motions are simple – snarl, leap, attack. Coyotes are easy prey. They’re overly curious and anxious to fight. She takes down one with ease, and lets the other go. Blood fills her mouth as she tears into its neck and loses herself in her meal. 

She’s too absorbed in her meal to hear the crunching of leaves behind her. Beth stops when she catches a whiff of something unfamiliar.

She glances sharply in the direction of the new scent. A dark brown wolf is standing stoically between the trees, its sharp blue eyes locking with hers. Its masculine, earthy scent clicks in her mind – it’s Daryl. 

Blood dripping down her chin, she never breaks eye contact with Daryl. The air is static and it’s hard to ignore the tension between them. Beth feels like she’s holding herself back – from what, she doesn’t know.

_Girl?_ His gravelly voice rumbles in her head. He sounds tired, weak, broken. That doesn't deter her.

_Leave me be._

Feeling high off her kill and the night, she turns and bounds swiftly into the darkness.

…

She returns home early the next morning, bones aching and skin slick with sweat. Thankfully her camisole and jeans and boots are still relatively intact, but her white blouse isn’t. Beth trudges through the field, goosebumps prickled on her skin. She crawls into bed with Maggie, and burrows herself between her sister and the wall. She sleeps.

…

“What do you mean we’re out of suppressants?!” Beth hisses, throwing empty boxes out of the medicine cabinet angrily. 

“I thought you had an extra box! Or Daddy did at least!” Maggie stutters, running a hand through her short dark hair.

“At least you have Glenn! To – you know!” Beth cringes and ignores the mental image of her sister getting intimate with anyone. “What am I going to do?!” she cries, fists clenching the counter top. The panic is slowly rising in her chest as she realizes what’s going to happen to her. She’s never gone through a turn without her hormone suppressants. Without them, she doesn’t know how hypersensitive she’s going to be. 

The wolf inside of her stays tame under the suppressants. Now, she knows it’s going to want to fight anything that pisses her off, or try to mate with anything that turns her on.  
Beth’s never been afraid of the wolf before, but the inevitability of it all looms over her and swells her anxiety even further. 

“How did you find out –“ Maggie starts, but stops when she meets Beth’s glare. “Okay. Never mind. More important things to worry about,” she mutters and rifles through the drawers once more.

…

Beth spends the next few days in self-contained solitary confinement. She’s going stir-crazy, her whole body feels itchy and antsy. Her days are spent pacing about her room and gazing out at the wood that are practically begging her to join them. 

One evening, she makes a mistake by heading downstairs for a glass of water. She spots Shane on the front porch, arguing with her Daddy over guns and weapons for the millionth time. 

Marching up to him, Beth squares her shoulders and glares straight into Shane’s eyes. “Tell me – who exactly do you think you are? You think you can just stroll on up to our territory and argue with my pack about our rules? What is wrong with you? Can’t you see that you’ve already done enough damage here?!” she barks, clenching her fists and her teeth. She is panting by the end of her tirade, and is acutely aware of everyone’s eyes on her. 

Her neck is tingling and Beth practically feels Lori and Carol’s appraising stares, Dale and Glenn’s confusion, and even Andrea’s darkening glance on her back. She swallows hard and flushes red, breaking eye contact to look at the wood underneath her feet.

“Bethy, why don’t you go inside?” Hershel says, his instructions clear in his tone.

Beth nods with a quick upward jolt of her neck and does everything she can not to sprint up to her room, embarrassment hot over her body.

She bolts the lock on her room and squeezes her eyes shut in shame. How could she let herself get out of control like that? Granted this was a difficult time for her cycle, but it still didn’t give her any excuses! 

She groans and collapses in her desk chair out the window. Outside, the sun is beginning to set and Rick’s group looks as if they’re beginning to prepare dinner. T-Dogg is sitting on top of Dale’s RV and the rest are mingling about aimlessly. There’s one missing from their group – Daryl is nowhere to be seen. 

She’s distracted by movement by the tree line. Beth squints and spots the strange wolfman emerge from the wood with a few squirrels hung over his shoulder. She can see a tent and a small stream of smoke floating towards the sky.

Somehow, she’s not surprised that he’s moved away from the group. Beth knows it must be hard being the only wolf among a group of humans. She knew how agitating it must be to be separated from a packmate, not to mention a sibling. She’d be lost without Maggie.

Beth knows that this Waning Moon must be affecting him too, maybe that’s why he’s isolating himself. She wonders how hot his temper has gotten, and whether or not he’s feeling the same itch that she is.

She wonders how his hands would feel on her waist. Would they feel greasy and grimy, or warm and solid on her skin? Would he murmur in her ear, or would he plant kisses along her jaw? Would he keep his distance, or would he want to devour her – like she wants to devour him?

Beth stops herself and blushes, but doesn’t try to push the low heat in her core out.

…

The next morning is unbearable. She wakes with an unbearable ache between her legs and memories of an intense dream featuring her farm's resident stranger -wolfman.

“I need to go for a couple of days,” Beth says as she chases Maggie through the kitchen, glancing at the moon calendar on the fridge. The Full Moon is almost here, and she can practically feel its pull on her skin.

“Bethy, you can’t just leave!” Maggie protests, moving to block the doorway. “Dad, say something!”

Hershel exhales slowly from the kitchen table. “Stay in our territory. Don’t let the wolf take over entirely. This may be part of you, but you shouldn’t let it be all of you.”

Beth wants to cry at her father’s blessing. She practically runs to him and envelops him in her arms. “I’ll be safe, Daddy, I promise.”

The morning sun is high and the group is awake, but she hardly cares. Beth hears and ignores questioning calls of her name as she races across the field. She can feel Daryl’s eyes on her as she jogs past his camp. 

“Hey!” he calls. “Where do you think you’re going?! The woods ain’t safe!”

Beth stops and gives him an incredulous look. “You should be perfectly aware of where I’m going and why. I don’t have time for this!”

He doesn’t respond, so she resumes her jog to the forest. She practically tears off her blouse and jeans, tossing them on top of a boulder so Maggie could easily find them later. Behind a tree she wrestles out of her bra and underwear, and hands herself over to the Change.

The thrumming under her skin intensifies as her bones crack and heal. Swallowing a scream, she squeezes her eyes shut and concentrates on how her hands turn into paws and how fur rapidly grows from hair follicles all over her body. When it’s over, she blinks and inhales the scent of the clean earth around her. Throwing her head back, she howls and takes off into the forest.

…

While the trees stand tall and the undead roam through the foliage, Beth knows she reigns as the queen of the wood. 

After she’s Changed, it’s as if a dam has broken inside of her heart and now her soul is able to run wild with her. Sometimes, she feels outside of herself as she glides through the trees. It is exhilarating, liberating, free.

The sun travels through the sky and before Beth knows it, it is time for the Full Moon to rise. She figures she might hear Maggie tonight, but she’s so far away from home that it’s hard to tell. 

Beth’s ultrasensitive snout catches a familiar scent. She turns and spots a dark wolf a few paces behind her spot at the top of a hill. 

_How’d you find me?_

_You’re not as far out as you think you are._ Daryl’s voice echoes through her head.  
She snorts and sits back on her hind legs, swishing her tail back and forth. _Are you gonna come over here or not?_

His deep blue eyes study hers, full of intensity and scrutiny. _Why?_

_We’re gonna be out here all night. Might as well do something._

Daryl reluctantly trots over and plops down beside her. 

Beth closes her eyes and listens closely to the crickets and katydids. The summer air is slowly cooling with the sinking sun, and she feels as if she can hear the nocturnal animals wake. 

The Full Moon slowly appears over the oak trees in the distance, and the stars begin to glimmer in the twilight. She lets out a deep breath and revels in this sensation – as if she’s truly apart of the natural world around her. 

Beth stands up and stretches her hind legs. _Well, come on, Mr. Dixon. What are you waiting for?_

_What the hell are you talking about?_

_Let’s run._


	2. take a good look at me and tell me who it is that i am

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2! Yay! So the timing of me finishing this fic and Bethyl Smut Week is perfect, seeing that it's still Day 1 and the word is "Mate." So here's my submission for day 1 of BSW!
> 
> The song that Beth sings in this chapter is "Dance to Another Tune" by First Aid Kit. I don't own the lyrics, or any of the characters at all. Also, there is a homage to the _A Song of Ice and Fire_ series by George RR Martin. I don't own that either.
> 
> Please don't forget to leave kudos/review! Enjoy!

Life on the road is hard. It’s a constant cycle of run, stay, sleep, eat, repeat. With winter steadily approaching, the temperature drops more and more each night. Beth remembers winters before the turn – dozing in front of warm fires, snuggling in giant sweaters, wearing thick socks with her cowboy boots. She remembers reading one of Shawn’s fantasy novels while her mama cooked beef stew in the kitchen. One quote in particular stood out to her - _When the snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies but the pack survives._

That author – whoever he was – couldn’t’ve been more right. She doesn’t know how she would survive without her pack.

Beth opts for spending the cold nights in her wolf form. Her thick coat and enlarged organs help keep her warmer than any blanket could. Daddy usually sleeps at her back, while Lori and Carl rest close to her abdomen. She knows she’s not a natural born fighter, and it’s nice knowing that she’s helping the group as best as she could.

Daryl tends to do the same, although it’s rare seeing him out of his wolf form. He often scouts ahead of the group and provides warmth at night to those who need it – mainly Carol and Rick, sometimes T-Dogg.

Sometimes, when Maggie’s being too overprotective or Rick too ornery, she scouts with him. Something changed between them after their night together in the wood. When he looks at her, his eyes fill with trust and confidence that leaves her flushed to the core. 

_You coming, Greene?_ His voice says in her mind. When she looks at him, he cocks his head towards the trees.

_You bet._

And when the Waning Moon begins to linger on the horizon, it takes all her strength not to throw herself at him, make him hers, feel his rough hands against her hips and down to her –

Well, you get the picture.

…

_Find anything?_ she projects when she smells Daryl in her vicinity. It’s a bright and icy day and their pack is nearly frozen and hunger is gnawing its way through their core. Beth hates these days where neither her nor Daryl nor even Maggie can’t find any food. It’s as if all the rabbits and squirrels have been picked clean from this area, and they can’t do anything about it.

_Nothin’. Hopefully someone did some scavengin’._ Daryl replies, his gravelly voice echoing through her head.

Beth exhales with a snort and watches her breath crystallize in the cold morning air. She scours the area with her snout to the ground in search of anything edible, but turns up almost nothing.

Defeated, she returns to camp when the sun sets. After tossing a lone squirrel that hangs loosely from her teeth towards the fire, she trots away to where she hid her clothes. When she’s back to her human form, she can’t get her clothes on quick enough. Beth notices the temperature nearly drops fifteen degrees when day turns to night.

She helps Carol skin her squirrel and a rabbit Daryl found while stoking the fire. Someone found a few cans of baked beans, and Beth’s stomach rumbles at the thought of the warm and sweet sustenance. 

Still hungry after dinner, Beth brings her knees to her chest and tries to warm herself in front of the small fire. Everyone is huddled up against one another, even Daryl who looks like he’s ready to change back into his wolf. She sighs and leans to rest her cheek on Lori’s shoulder. “How’s the peanut?” she asks softly.

“He’s good, not as hard of a kicker as Carl was,” Lori replies with a tight smile, running a hand over her enlarged stomach.

“As always, I’ll save some room for you two tonight,” Beth assures tiredly and doesn’t let herself dwindle on the thought of Lori and the baby freezing to death one night. She couldn’t bear it if something happened to the two of them.

“Bethy, why don’t you sing somethin’?” Maggie requests, a sleepy smile on her face.

“I – that might not be a good idea. Don’t want to attract any walkers.” Her eyes dart to Rick, Daryl, and her Daddy.

Rick sighs and rubs a hand over his face. “Not for long. Keep it down.”

A small grin flickers upon her face before she begins crooning a woodsy folk song. She ignores her nerves and allows herself to fall into the lyrics.

_“It's not the world that's spinning as me_  
I go from nowhere to nowhere searching for the key.  
There's nothing new under the sun,  
All that will happen has already begun.” 

Beth lets her eyes drift over her group. Their eyes are weary and almost lifeless in the way that they stare into the fire. When she reaches Daryl, he makes eye contact, and glances away. She can still feel his stare on her as the song ends and her voice fades into the trees. 

“Beautiful, Bethy,” her Daddy remarks with a tired beam. Beth smiles lightly and leaves her place to transform into her wolf. 

After the fire’s died down, she allows anyone to curl up around her and absorb her warmth. She exhales deeply, knowing they can’t keep up this running forever.

…

Everyone is ecstatic when they stumble upon a creek nestled in the forest. When Beth wades in, the cold mountain water runs up around her thighs. She can already start to feel her legs numb beneath her. 

Her boots, jeans, jacket, and flannel have been haphazardly tossed onto the bank along with the other women’s clothes. They’re all hastily scrubbing themselves with bars of half used soap and ratty washcloths. Beth gradually begins to move again, her hot blood working hard to preserve warmth.

“I’m gonna head downstream a bit,” Beth says to Maggie. Her sister quirks an eyebrow at her from under her sudsy hair. “Just for some privacy. I’ll be right up there.”

“Alright,” she says slowly. “Be careful.”

“You know I always am, Mags.” Beth shrugs and smiles tightly and glides with the current, scraping her feet over rocks and sand. She shivers in the winter afternoon air, her tank top and panties not providing much warmth in the river. 

She tucks herself behind a thick shrub not far from the group. The shrub’s overgrown limbs drag in the water, creating a curtain of green. After making sure she’s as secluded as she can be, she shucks off her tank top and hangs it on a branch. Gritting her teeth, she squats and dunks her body and her head into the water, cold seizing her throat and chest.

Once she’s wet, she scrubs furiously at the dirt and blood on her skin and her scalp. Her skin tightens with each rinse and new layer of soap. Seeing how much dirt and blood residue from her skin floated down the river is slightly alarming. She sticks her hands in her armpits in an attempt to warm them. Her teeth chatter, and she feels like her nipples are about to freeze off.

The sound of twigs breaking penetrates the air. Cursing to herself, she quickly glances to her left, expecting a walker or two. She wasn’t expecting to see Daryl on the river bank, eyes wide and face flushed. His eyes rake up and down her body in a way that sends shivers down her spine and a low thrumming in her center.

Beth knows she should be mortified and uncomfortable, but she’s not. She likes the way he looks at her like she’s a woman, an equal, not just a silly teenage girl or a burden. 

Nevertheless, she doesn’t mistake how her own cheeks and neck heat up under his gaze, the warmth not necessarily unpleasant. Something heavy is in the air, and she’s nervous to cross the invisible border that’s been drawn.

“Shit – fuck,” he curses when he finally meets her stare. “I’m sorry –didn’t think anyone would be down here –“ Daryl looks positively ashamed of his actions, and Beth wants nothing more than to reassure him otherwise.

She’s still finding the words when he silently slips off into the wood. 

…

Later that evening, they’ve finally settled in an old plantation home. Beth runs her fingers through her somewhat clean blonde hair, trying to break the knots and tangles as best as she can. A fire glows low in the hearth, the smell of cooked rabbit pungent throughout the first story of the house. 

Lori and Carl are already sleeping in the guest bedroom when Hershel blows the candles out. Everyone is spread out around the living room, curled up on cushions and decorative pillows. Beth burrows into a soft fleece blanket in the corner, trying to get comfortable despite the ever present anxiety in her chest.

“… We’ll leave as soon as the sun’s up tomorrow morning,” Rick says as he opens the front door, voice quiet and low. 

“Alright,” Daryl hums as he follows him. Beth’s cheeks flush, flashes from the creek rolling through her mind. She can’t seem to shake off the feeling of his eyes upon her, the raw, primal urge that she desperately tries to smother within herself.

“You takin’ first watch?” Rick asks, settling down with his back against the couch.

“Yeah.” He bends down, rifles through his pack and poncho, and fishes out his canteen. “I’ll wake Glenn up in a few hours.” He shuts the door behind him abruptly, not wanting to let the cold in.

Beth tries to get comfortable in the corner. Her blanket smells faintly of mothballs and lilac, the combination causing her nose to crinkle. The house is quiet with only T-Dogg’s and Daddy’s light snores filling the air. She lies down on the hardwood floor and brings her knees to her chest and sighs. 

Her bones are tired, her eyelids are heavy, but she’s restless. There’s an itching in her legs and a racing pulse in her heart that won’t slow. She stretches her legs, arches her back, and sighs heavily.

There’s one person on her mind, and he’s sitting on the other side of the wall. 

Beth sits up and wraps the blanket around her shoulders. Rising to her feet, she tiptoes around the sleeping and quietly sneaks out the front door. The night is dark and cold, the winter winds bristling through the trees. 

“Go back to bed, girl,” a voice murmurs from the dark. She glances sharply to her side and finds Daryl sitting on the deck, his back to the wood paneling of the deck. He’s wrapped up in his makeshift poncho, a lit cigarette dangling from under it. 

“Can’t sleep,” she replies and tightens the blanket around her. Taking a deep breath, she plops down beside him, close enough so that their shoulders brush each other. “And you’re warm," she adds with a slightly teasing tone.

He stiffens under her touch, and begins to inch away, his face drawn and stony.

“Daryl –" she reaches out and places a hand on his forearm, his skin warm and dry under her palm.

“The fuck are you doing, girl? You think just ‘cause we run together and we’re both wolves that you think I’m somehow interested, huh?” he hisses in a loud whisper. “You know, if a girl like you knows a guy like me’s seen your tits and almost everything else, she’d be running in the other direction. What do you think –“

“Daryl –"

“You always run from everything when anything goes wrong like some stupid wolfbitch –"

“Screw you, you don’t get it!”

“No, you don’t get it! We’re alone and who knows what’s out there?! You can’t just be going around all-" he sputters, gesturing wildly, "and looking for a mate when everything is gone! Especially not in me – the fuck are you even thinking, Greene?!”

“Hey!” she growls, twisting to look at him straight in the eye. “You don’t get to talk to me like that. Don’t ever think I’m the type of girl who would put up with that. Everything you said right then is bullshit.” She braces her hands on his knees to keep him from getting away. “I can make my own decisions. This is my life, and I’m going do what I want – especially since everything is gone. If that means I like to run with you, then I like to run with you. If I like knowing you’ve seen me naked, then I like knowing you’ve seen me naked. Don’t ever think you can decide things for me.”

She sits back and smirks at his taken aback expression. The tips of his ears flush red and his lips part as he stumbles to find what to say. “Beth – I – Really?”

She nods and lets her hands find his, intertwining their fingers together. “Yeah.” 

He blinks slowly and shakes his head, a small smile threatens to break across his features. “You’re crazy, girl.”

Beth smirks and shrugs. “I’ve been told that before, but I’m not a girl. Not anymore.”

“Nah,” he drawls, letting his eyes drift down from her face to her chest, all the way down to the bottom of her thighs, causing her body to flush underneath her layers of flannel and jean. “You ain’t.”

Smiling and biting her lip, she settles back into his side. This time, he lets her lean in closer and wraps an arm around her shoulders. She places a hand on his knee, letting it skim before fully letting the weight of it settle. Beth can feel him hesitate at first, but then relax as she adds more pressure. She squeezes and sighs and lets herself sink into his side.  
Even after their outburst, she’s never known a night so quiet and perfect.

…

The worst of winter passes by slowly but surely. When morning frosts and harrowing rains begin to appear less frequently, everyone is overjoyed. Small animals return with the flowers in bloom, and Beth is more than happy to hunt down as many as she can to feed her pack. 

With the sky alight a little bit longer each day, everyone’s moods seem to be uplifted. Beth knows more than anyone how the soft, warm rays of the sun can cheer one up. Wandering through the woods with the sun peeking over the horizon is much better than wandering under a haze of gray. 

The changing seasons transforms the pack’s desperation into hope. Beth’s always figured that if you don’t have hope, then what’s the point of living? Sometimes, when she’s alone, she daydreams of living in an abandoned hotel or large plantation home where they can all grow and thrive. Her heart aches when she thinks of the farm, but she knows she can’t let herself dwell on the past.

What matters is now. She needs to focus on not only her own fight to live, but protecting the ones she loves as well. 

That’s what she tells herself when three strange men with hunting rifles and a mean glint in their eyes emerge from the tree line. 

Beth could punch herself for not noticing their scents earlier, but she had been too busy skinning squirrel. She was supposed to be keeping watch and making sure Lori, Carl, Carol, and her daddy safe. The rest are out raiding a Walmart down the road. Fear seizes her heart when she realizes how this is going to have to be handled.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” a man with a dark, scraggly beard and trucker hat asks, his eyes leering at the women.

“A buncha sitting ducks if you ask me,” another replies. He runs a hand over his dirt encrusted stubble and meanders around her pack.

“You best get on your way,” Beth growls, placing the squirrel and the knife on the ground and standing up slowly.

“Or,” the man with the beard says, “We could get rid of all of you nice and easy, take your shit, and get the hell outta dodge.” He pauses and glances around at his snickering companions. “Whaddya say, boys?”

“I say we start with this one!” 

Beth turns her head sharply and her vision runs red as one of the men holds a knife up to Lori’s throat. Her Change is instantaneous, her bones and muscles tearing and mending all at once, her clothes tearing at the seams as she changes from woman to wolf. 

She lets the wolf take over – leap, attack, kill whatever wasn’t marked by her scent. Her rage is equally all encompassing and terrifying to the human instincts within her mind. She lets it run, lets it course through her veins and out her claws and teeth. 

Soon, the wolf retreats and she emerges. Blood drips from her mouth onto the cracked highway into a growing puddle. Her eyes flicker up to the scene, widening at the sight of the bodies of the men with torn out throats and severed limbs. She glances at her pack, whose eyes are fearful and horrified.

Her stomach roils in shame and guilt, and she lets her paws carry her into the forest. Killing those men had been so nauseatingly easy, and the looks on her pack’s faces are been frozen and petrified. 

She stops sprinting in a clearing with high grass and trees with Spanish moss creating a canopy above. Panting heavily, she collapses onto her side and wants the soil beneath to absorb her into the Earth.

…

The sky is darkening when she wakes to something poking the back of her neck.

_C’mon, Beth,_ Daryl’s voice echoes through her head. _Gotta head back._

_Daryl? What’re you…?_ She springs up and lets her eyes adjust to her surroundings. _How long’ve I been out here?_

_Dunno. We got back a little while ago, had to track you down._ He circles around to face her. _You alright?_

She can still taste the blood on her gums. _No._

Later that night, she finds herself wrapped in a blanket, wearing Maggie’s other pair of jeans and one of Carol’s tank tops. Her boots were destroyed in her Change, so she pulled on three pairs of wool socks to protect her feet instead. Maggie lightly teased her about going shoe shopping, but Beth couldn’t bring herself to do more than force a smile.

However, something shifts when Daryl settles down beside her, wraps an arm around her back, and pulls her into his side. Her eyes flutter shut when he presses a light kiss to her temple in the dying light of the fire. 

She knows she’s not sorry for what she did, but she knows the lingering guilt within her created a wound that will take a long time to heal.

…

The Waning Moon is upon them once again. After the farm fell, Beth had spent the five Waning Moons far away from her pack, especially Daryl. The pull between them was strong, and it was getting harder and harder to ignore.

After the day he had found her in the clearing, Beth had taken to sleeping close to Daryl. She tends to ignore questioning looks from Rick and Carol as she sets up her sleeping bag next to Daryl’s. She knows Maggie thinks it’s weird, but has gradually accepted it. Out of all people, she knows how bad the want for a Mate is.

When she approached her Daddy about it, he had been hesitant. “You be careful with him, Bethy,” he had said, looking his youngest straight in the eye. “Be gentle. Stay human with one another.”

Stay human. She could do that. That’s what she tells herself when she drags him out into the middle of the wood at dusk, claiming she wants to show him a cabin she found. The low throb in her center is pulsing, and she knows he can feel it too.

In the middle of their trek, Daryl stops and backs away. “Beth, I gotta go. I can’t –“ He pauses and clenches his fists. “I can’t. Not right now. You should know I can’t.”

“Daryl,” she starts, and steps towards him. “Daryl, what are we doing?” Beth whispers and grasps his hand, heart pumping rapidly within her chest.

“Stop,” he hisses but doesn’t move his hand. “Nothing’s going to happen. This ain’t you, it ain’t me. It’s the moon talking. It’s the wolf.”

“I think we’re past that point.” She moves in front of him and intertwines her fingers with his. “You’re the only person I’ve ever felt this way towards. And I know you feel something for me too. It’s not just the wolf talking – it’s me too. In here.” Beth guides his hand towards the center of her chest, letting him feel her heartbeat flutter under his palm.

“Beth, baby, I can’t give you what you want.” His voice hitches, as if he’s holding himself back. 

“I don’t want anything other than you. I know this bond will only make us stronger.” She releases his wrists, wrapping her arms around his neck. “If you truly don’t want this, tell me. Otherwise, let me.” The thrumming under her skin only intensifies when she presses her lips against his. She’s pulled to him like a wave, the emptiness in her chest filling crash by crash. Beth is horrified when he doesn’t respond for a moment, but then his lips are moving on hers and everything is right again.

Daryl grips her hip and squeezes rhythmically, cupping her cheek with the other hand. Her lips part and he drinks her in. The sensations in her core are overwhelming and Beth wants to drown in him. And he’s kissing her like he wants to drown in her too.

The wolf inside her awakens with a growl. He responds by backing her up to a tree and pressing his body against hers. She moans at the sudden closeness, how his hard body feels against hers, how his scent permeates the air she breathes. Daryl breaks away from her mouth and kisses across her cheek, down her jaw, and onto her neck. Beth gasps at the feeling of his tongue on her neck, she knows there’s going to be a mark there when he’s done. She parts her legs a bit, and allows him to slip a knee between them. The solid, warm weight between her thighs nearly sends her off into the stars. “Oh my god,” she stutters and rolls her hips, aching for more contact.

“What’s that?” Daryl growls against the side her neck. Beth would call it nuzzling if it were any other situation than this. “You like this?” He slides a hand from her hip to her lower back and presses her down harder against his thigh.

Beth’s cry is interrupted by his lips moving against hers once more. Feeling the hard bulge in his jeans, she angles her hips slightly so that they’re coming into closer contact than before. Daryl curses against her mouth and presses his hand on her down harder. Her fingers trail down his chest and his abdomen before resting on his belt buckle. Daryl breaks the kiss and pulls back slightly, his deep blue eyes cloudy with lust and his wolf.

“We don’t have to,” he says lowly, searching her face for any kind of hesitancy.

“I want to. I don’t want to go through another Change without you, and I don’t know when we’re going to get another opportunity like this to be alone,” she replies steadily, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. “Please, Daryl. Let’s do this tonight.”

He eyes her critically and stays silent for a few minutes. Swiftly, he bends down and lifts her into his arms, one under her knees and the other around her shoulders. She giggles softly as he carries and lies her on the forest floor under the stars. They glitter in the darkened sky, the early waning moon lights up the canopy of trees above them. The grass is soft beneath her body, for the Earth seems to be reaching up and pulling them in.

She understands now. She understands how bonds can be strong enough to shake the core of the earth, how the pull of a bond can both build and destroy. As Daryl settles on top of her, his deep kisses awaken a primal instinct within her. She never wants to let this man go. She never wants to leave his side. She could die alongside him and be perfectly content, because she knows that they would meet again soon. 

Her tears trail down her temples and into her hair. He breaks away momentarily to brush a stray piece of hair from her forehead. “Beth? Are you okay?” he asks, voice soft and tender.

Beth nods shakily. “I just –“ She pulls him flush against her, his mouth on top of hers, his broad chest shielding hers, his hips cradled between her thighs. Unable to describe this knowledge with words, she pours herself into him with a soft but earthshatteringly deep kiss. “-you know?” she finishes, parting softly with a laugh.

A small grin breaks on his features, and he traces the soft lines on her face with his nose, planting kisses in the process. “Yeah.”

With a deftness unbeknownst to both of them, his fingers unbutton her jeans. Beth shimmies one leg out of her pants, laughing quietly in the process. Daryl huffs out a chuckle and places his mouth onto the other side of her neck, trailing his fingers down into her cotton underwear. 

She gasps at his fingers twirling in the top of her pubic hair and gliding slowly down to her center. She knows she’s wet and moans when he lightly traces over her slit.

“This all for me?” he hums against her neck, still hardly touching her.

“Of course,” she sighs, desperately wiggling against him for more friction.

“Fuck,” he chokes as he starts to rub slow circles over her clit. The warm pressure low in her gut gets heavier with every stroke. With his thumb steadily playing with her clit, his fingers trail downwards, playing with her lips and opening. He raises from his place at her neck and stares into her eyes as he quickens his pace and slowly sinks his digits in her.

As he plays with her clit and gently moves his digits in and out of her core, Beth comes with a gasp. Her orgasm laps at the edges of her body, crashing in and out like the pull of the moon on the tide. Once she calms down, he pulls out and licks his fingers. Beth whimpers and Daryl shoots her a questioning look.

“What? I knew you’d taste as good as you smelled. Wanna try?” he asks, a smirk playing on his lips. She parts her lips and seals them around his fore and middle fingers. Her tang is evident, along with the earthy saltiness of skin and dirt already on his fingers. “Christ,” he whispers as her tongue swirls around the digits.

She releases him and reaches down to his belt. Unclasping the metal of the buckle and button and pulling down his zipper, she reaches a small hand into his jeans as Daryl inches his pants down his thighs. She’s not surprised and rather pleased to find him going commando. Beth takes him into her hand, marveling at the smooth and heavy weight in her palm. It pulses and she squeezes, drawing a low moan from his chest. Beth meets his eyes and bites her lip, guiding him towards her center. 

They moan in unison as the tip of his head brushes against her clit. She parts her thighs even more, giving him as much access as possible. He pulls back slightly with a question in his eyes, but she cuts him off. “Daryl Dixon, if you ask if I’m ready one more time I swear to god-“

But he doesn’t. Instead, he guides himself into her, slowly but surely. His pupils are almost blown black with need as he inches his way inside her. Beth pants as he steadily fills her up, welcoming the burning yet pleasurable sensation. Once he’s fully seated inside her, she takes his hands from her hips and pulls them above her head, intertwining their fingers in an increasingly familiar way. She nods, giving him her consent to start moving.

Daryl rocks his hips back and forth, slowly and deeply. He never breaks eye contact, even as his thrusts become more intense and powerful. Beth can’t control the noises being drawn out of her – the whimpers, the moans, the curses under her breath. His cock feels perfect inside her, its foreskin creating an irresistible sensation on top of the penetration.

“Think you can come with just my dick?” he grunts, squeezing her hands and driving himself deep inside her.

The tip of his head hits a spot that nearly brings tears to her eyes. “Yes!” she breathes sharply, the burning in her stomach about to explode. He leans down and kisses her in a way that makes her blush, his tongue sweeping around her mouth and entangling with hers. She’s never felt this close to someone before. She can practically feel his heartbeat on her chest.

She comes with a sharp cry and tumbles down. Daryl draws it out of her, thrusting his hips rapidly and erratically, coming quickly behind her. A low whine emits from his chest as his orgasm rips through him violently. He quickly pulls out and ejaculates onto her inner thigh. 

Beth hums contentedly as Daryl collapses on top of her, exhausted and spent. He tucks his nose underneath her jawline and lets out a tired breath. She lowers their hands down to their sides, untwines them, and wraps her arms around Daryl once again, playing with the greasy hair on the nape of his neck. His weight is heavy and welcome on top of her. 

She’s never felt so safe.

She can almost feel the bond between them interlock. Him being inside her was the physical bond, and now this is the emotional. Beth is certain that she’ll love Daryl and do anything to protect him until the dark veil of death separates them. The sensation is overwhelming and brings tears to her eyes.

Daryl shifts, and moves so he is able to kiss the tears off the apples of her cheeks. “Hey,” he murmurs. “I hope you know that I’m feeling whatever you’re feeling.” He props himself up on one elbow and brushes strands of blonde hair away from her face. 

“I know,” she sighs, smiling wobbly. “It’s just a lot to take in.”

Daryl nods and plants kisses down her jaw and to her parted lips. He kisses slowly and deeply, taking the time to say what can’t be said with words. 

She knows they’ll soon have to get up and return to camp. She knows it’ll be awkward and uncomfortable at first, for it will be obvious that they had just become one another’s Mates. 

Beth can only focus on the blooming Bond between them, and how they will run together as one being under the oncoming full moon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not want us to be immortal or unlucky.  
> To listen for our own death in the distance.  
> Take my hand. Stand by the window.
> 
> I want to show you what is hidden in  
> this ordinary, ageing human love is  
> there still and will be until
> 
> the inland coast so densely wooded  
> not even the ocean fog could enter it  
> appears in front of us and the chilled-  
> to-the-bone light clears and shows us
> 
> Irish wolves. A silvery man and wife.  
> Yellow-eyed. Edged in dateless moonlight.  
> They are mated for life. They are legendary. They are safe.  
> \- Eavan Boland, "Once"

**Author's Note:**

>  _I do not want us to be immortal or unlucky._  
>  To listen for our own death in the distance.  
> Take my hand. Stand by the window.
> 
>  
> 
> _I want to show you what is hidden in_  
>  this ordinary, ageing human love is  
> there still and will be until
> 
>  
> 
> _the inland coast so densely wooded_  
>  not even the ocean fog could enter it  
> appears in front of us and the chilled-  
> to-the-bone light clears and shows us
> 
>  
> 
>  _Irish wolves. A silvery man and wife._  
>  Yellow-eyed. Edged in dateless moonlight.  
> They are mated for life. They are legendary. They are safe.  
> \- Eavan Boland, "Once"


End file.
